


"Just one shot,"

by padlockandpastels



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: 13 reasons why, F/F, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 06:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10758699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padlockandpastels/pseuds/padlockandpastels
Summary: Based off that one scene with Courtney and Hannah in 13rw.//Mac and Duke get drunk at a sleepover and play truth or dare.





	"Just one shot,"

**Author's Note:**

> oops. this is for Amy I stg you homo-

//based off that scene in 13 reasons why with Courtney and Hannah, obviously.

Heather McNamara normally didn't do this stuff. Breaking into her father's liquor cabinet when he was out of town. Then again, she normally didn't have sleepovers with Heather Duke either.

Then again, that was before Chandler passed after all. It was an awakened silence. Unspoken nervousness that hung between the duo as they watched a few rows of movies. Chandler had been the rock—the leader who guided the two. It was almost like they didn't know what to do without her. It was almost like they were missing someone.

And then it was Duke's idea. For the alcohol. 'Let's take our mind off it, that's what Heather would have wanted.' She had said.

And in a way, maybe she was right. Wouldn't the dead demon queen want them to move on with their lives? Even if it started at a drunken sleepover?

"Just one shot or something." McNamara had grumbled, casting a nervous look at the front door. As if her Dad would barge in or something. He wasn't home. He hadn't been home in nearly two weeks. Another infamous business trip. It was routine now.

One shot turned to four. Then it was a beer. Then the dark haired Heather had crashed into the fridge in a tipsy attempt at climbing up on the counter to grab the wine battle that sat up top. Which...had ended successfully. (With a broken fridge handle and a bruise on Duke's side).

Whatever pain it caused ended with the teenage girls laughing on the kitchen tile, pin point tears in both of their eyes.

"Oh my god." The cheerleader snickered, offering out a swinging palm. "Get up, you nerd." Drunken giggles tumbled out. "Don't just lay there the whole night. Let's do something."

"What?" Duke whined with a small whimper of faux pain, staggering to her feet. Her dark eyes gleamed. She swallowed bitterly, placing the wine bottle on the tabletop with an accomplished huff. "I'm drinking it. I almost broke a rib doing it, Mac. I'm drinking it."

"You're paying to fix my fridge." The freckled girl teased with a roll of her blue eyes. "Come on," she lazily clicked her tongue as she scooped up the other's hand and buzzing off to bed bedroom.

They tumbled into the sheets, Heather McNamara propped up against the window. Her green counterpart laying on her stomach, propped up on her arms, wine bottle laced in her grip.

"Dukey," Heather whined suddenly after meek, drunken conversations made of 90% snickers had been passed around. "I'm _bored_."

Brown eyes stared up stuck in a glossy gaze. "You're the one who dragged me in here, Heather. You think of something to do." She tiredly slurred, giving her thigh a sharp poke.

"Bleh," her head fell back. Echoing a small 'thump' off the carved wood behind her curls. Heather scrunched up her freckled nose in contemplation. "Truth or dare."

"With two people?" Heather openly thought. She got a sharp look in response. "Fine, fine." With a small, weak groan of protest, the Korean student pushed herself up to a sitting position beside her long term friend.

The two normally weren't this friendly. They hadn't been in a while, honestly. Before hand being dragged along like Heather Chandler's personal lapdogs didn't leave much time for socializing independently with one another.

"You go first." McNamara hummed, drugging her fingers on the hem of her shorts.

"No fair," Heather breathed under her breath. She shifted, sitting right to Mac now. The pale teen squinted gently, looking the other over. Her cheeks brushed pink from the alcohol she had drunk within the last few hours. The alcohol that very much had taken affect.

"Take off your bra."

"What?" The blonde sputtered out. Heather tensed from her place against the bed, suddenly as stiff as the headboard behind her.

"God, I don't know. It's the first thing that came to mind." Duke laughed at nothing, with a small shake of her head, ponytail swaying.

"Fine. Weirdo." The teen responded with a playful, slightly concerned smile.

There's a glint of surprise in Heather's eye as McNamara shifted, unclipping and tossing her bra aside without taking off her raggedy sweatshirt. Somewhere on the carpet, she didn't care to look.

"Fine, if we're doing dumb dares like that—" she paused for a moment, buzzed mind skimming over the countless parties she had been too since freshmen year. The countless dares. "Take off your shirt."

Duke arched her brow. "Original?"

"Shut up, Heather." She gave a brief string of laughter, but it faded. The other' smile flickered with nostalgia.

That had been Chandler's line, after all.

Mac quickly cleared her throat. "Just, it's only fair." She attempted a gentle giggle. The suffocating air seemed to thin out, thankfully.

"This is more dares then truths." Duke shot out, sitting up on her knees. She began to unbutton her ruffled blouse, offering her friend a playful look.

"Dares are the only good part of the game, Heather. Duh." She mocked, not helping her gaze from wondering.

The green fabric fell off her shoulders with a mock gasp. McNamara gave a small squeal, throwing a throw pillow that cluttered her bed in the dark haired teen's direction.

"I guess you're right." Duke collapsed back on the bed, torso left covered by some black sports bra. Heather swallowed thickly, casting her gaze on her sheets.

"Kiss me." It rang out after a moment.

"Excuse you?"

"I dare you to kiss me."

When she swung her face back around, Duke had shifted so close, Heather almost fell back in surprise. No explanation was given besides a quick,

"It doesn't mean anything. Best friends do it all the time when they're drunk."

Best friends did this all the time? The words rang in her flustered mind. Where did Duke get that idea? McNamara had never kissed any of her female friends. Had Duke? Had Duke kissed Heather Chandler at those late night parties? Those drunken sleepovers where the cheerleader had passed out too early, leaving them alone for hours. The thought planted a pinpoint of jealously in her gut. Why?

Heather shifted, robotically going forward. It's just a quick peck. Just a peck. Duke gives a drunken lighthearted laugh as she drew back. Wine bottle long forgotten. "See?" She breathed. "Nothing." Odd thing to say when moving closer, but alright.

Eyes meet, a new tension between the duo that was never identified sooner. No words were spoken. It wouldn't help. It starts with laughter, Mac pressing another quick kiss to the girl's lips.

A laugh. A kiss. A snicker. A press forward. A smile. A lingering taste on her lips from anything other than alcohol.

The laughter had faded from the blonde's bedroom. Slow, unsure movements as one pulled forward for another kiss. Longer. A real one. It gave them both butterflies they didn't want to explain.

She couldn't explain why she kissed back. Couldn't explain how her hands found Duke's waist to guide the girl onto her lap, legs swung either side. Couldn't explain why her breath caught in the back of her throats when Duke's hand up to her curls, dragging her closer to deepen the kiss.

Kisses turned to choked breaths, drawn closed eyes. Hands slithering up Duke's side. What were they doing? Heather wanted to blame the alcohol that pumped through her veins, she really didn't. Because well, Heather McNamara was not gay. Neither was Heather Duke.

Right?

She wasn't so sure as a small whimper escaped her mouth when Duke bit down on her bottom lip light. They broke apart, quickly. The first break in the situation. A pause. A what the fuck just happened? They could have quiet.

Could have given a panicked screech and jumped back.

They didn't.

"This is—okay, right?" Duke awkwardly began, small voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah—yeah. I...I think so." It was a mutual unsure. They were both new to this.

"Good."

She pressed forward, getting a small squeak from the smaller teen in response. Fierce, alcohol and mint laced taste against her own lips. Heather let out a small groan as she felt the shift above her. No comment was given as she noticed Duke start to move her hips. So, so slowly. A small desperate grind, in search of something.

The pair's breathing came out in short bursts, touches on fire. Duke's intoxicating kisses trailed down to Heather's neck.

She's too focused that she doesn't hear the bell ring.

There's a small whine, a tug at the hem of her shirt, the room suddenly horribly hot.

Didn't hear the person let themselves in.

Too busy with the small drunken mumbles to heard the footsteps.

"Come here," Heather slurred soon, dragging her partner to meet her lips.

"Hey, Heather! Sorry I'm late—" Veronica Sawyer screeched to a halt in the doorframe.

Blue and brown eyes flew open. Duke jerks, staggering to climb off of McNamara. Lips leave hers before she could blink, so fast Duke nearly falls off the bed.

"Shit," it's whispered in sync.

"I—" Veronica takes a hesitant step back, dark cheeks suddenly burning. What had she just walked in on. "I'm sorry, I'll leave. I didn't mean to—I didn't know-"

"There's nothing to know." Suddenly Duke shot out. She's already on the wooden floor, shift half buttoned in the wrong places. Her flats are on her feet. She doesn't bother with her socks before stumbling past Veronica.

The Blue Heather was nearly a block. An unfit puzzle piece of the evening. McNamara winced. She had forgot. Veronica was supposed to show up for this sleepover.

"Duke." She said slowly. The gears start to shift. The blonde jumps out of bed so quickly she nearly crashed into the brunette. "No, no, no. Heather don't leave." She choked out frantically, but the girl's already had way across the bedroom.

Duke's gaze is dull. It slides past McNamara, eyes on the doorknob.

"Can we talk—"

She didn't get to finish the sentence before Duke's panicked shaking fingers have already opened and slammed the door. And suddenly, it's empty again.


End file.
